


In The Arms Of The Ocean

by InNovaFertAnimus



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Prince!erik, merman!charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 12:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8143874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InNovaFertAnimus/pseuds/InNovaFertAnimus
Summary: After conquering the Marko's kingdom, Prince Erik finds something he didn't expect. Written for Thacmis' beautiful mer!Charles art.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thacmis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thacmis/gifts).
  * Translation into Tiếng Việt available: [In The Arms Of The Ocean](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8155733) by [chucklumn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucklumn/pseuds/chucklumn)



“Lord, the guards surrendered.”

Erik nods and dismounts his horse. “Any sign of the Markos?” His body aches as he starts walking further into the heart of the city. The battle lasted almost three days, although it was clear from the beginning that Marko’s forces stood no chance of winning.

The messenger, Sean he thinks, falls into step with him, or rather follows him one step behind. “They barricaded themselves in one of the backrooms and demand negotiations.”

Erik snorts. He didn’t expect anything else of those cowards. Leaving their people unprotected and even defeated overly arrogant. “I’ll handle it. Find Alex and tell him to meet me there.” Negotiations won’t take long with him. He’ll make sure of that. “Tell him to bring the battering ram.”

With a quick bow Sean disappears again.

The mansion of the Marcos is in the center of the city. On his way towards it Erik hands his horse to one of his men and eyes the damage in the streets. The battle left its traces, but nothing too bad. His men obviously took his directions to heart.

On the gate he is greeted by a few of his commandeering officers. They all look tired like himself, but their eyes hold the gleam of a won battle. Alex, one of the newly appointed captains but loyal to no end, is already waiting for him. Together they make their way through the mansion, followed by a few soldiers carrying parts of the battering ram.

They end up in what looks like a private quarter in front of a heavily secured door. One of his men bangs his shield against it. Just seconds after it, a narrow slit opens up and a pair of eyes glimpse through it.

“Just the prince comes in.”

Erik is already too annoyed to even roll his eyes at that. If he wanted to break into that room, he wouldn’t need them to let him in. Did the Marcos think he would come to conquer a city unprepared? “Alright then.”

He hears not just a few locks and bolts being disabled before the door swings back. He gives Alex a small nod. He knows the captain is ready to break through the door if he takes too long. Erik can handle this alone, but he is no fool. He knows the Marcos too well to trust them.

The door closes instantly behind him, the younger Marco sealing it shut again. His father lounges in an opulent armchair. The room itself is somewhat strange. The walls are painted in a light cream and the floor is made of sleek dark stone, but there are neither pictures nor rugs decorating the room. Something what looks like a huge pillar is the centerpiece, covered with thick black curtains. Around it are even more seats scattered. Even the air is different, with a somewhat salty taste to it.

King Marco smiles one of his rather despicable smiles and points to one of the other armchairs. “Please, Prince Erik, you look exhausted, take a seat.”

Something in Erik wants to keep standing upright just to spite him, but his body protests violently at that thought. He takes the couch in front of him, noting that the younger Marco is still somewhere behind him. “I hope you are aware of your current situation, King Marko.”

The laugh he gets in response is faked. “Of course I am, that’s the reason I want to talk to you.”

Erik raises an eyebrow at that. “I don’t think there is much to talk about.”

The king hums and leans a little bit back in his seat. “I think there is, but let’s get comfortable first. What about a little entertainment?” He waves to his son. Erik follows the other man’s movements out of the corner of his eyes. He goes over to the side of the room and pulls a lever connected to different ropes. The curtains around the pillar fall to the ground.

Erik needs a few moments to truly understand what he’s seeing. Underneath the black cloth is a tube made of glass reaching from the ground almost to the ceiling filled with water. The ground is covered with sand and a rock is placed in the middle. On top of it lies a curled-in form, shrinking back from the sudden light. Blue scales shimmer through the water before they give way to pale skin.

A mer.

Erik only heard of merfolk in old tales and songs. They don’t really exist. He knows that. And still he watches as a merman pushes his upper body up and uncurls his tail. For a second their gazes meet through the glass.

He’s beautiful. There is no other word for it and even that seems not really enough to describe him. Dark hair framing his face, his features even and clean cut, his lips almost unnatural red and his eyes strikingly blue matching his tail. Unblemished skin stretches over well-defined muscles that speak of flexibility and strength until scales cover it. The fin at the tip of the tail spreads wide before turning almost translucent like the veil of a wedding dress. There is another, smaller pair of fins at his hips, framing the curve of his body in an almost sensual way. Erik knows he’s staring, but he can’t bring himself to look away. Ships crashing against the cliffs just to get a glimpse, sailors drowning in the floods lost in a kiss, it all makes sense now. 

Marko chuckles lightly. “He’s quite something, isn’t he?”

Erik watches, as the merman turns his head slowly to look around the room. A broad, golden ring closes around his throat, not unlike the ones used on slaves in the older days. It looks offensive, out of place on him. 

“How did you find him?”

“He saved my son’s life.”

That makes Erik finally face the king again. The other man smiles fondly at the merman. “He dragged him to the shore when his ship sunk. Wasn’t fast enough in the shallow water when we spotted them.”

“He saved your son and you imprisoned him?”

Marko huffs out a laugh. “Wouldn’t you? Just look at him!”

Despite the unexpected anger rising in him, he turns his gaze towards the tube again as the mer rearranges himself. His fins float gracefully through the water as he turns his back on them and lies down, head pillowed on his arms. Erik can’t imagine what it’s like to be trapped in something so small if you’re used to the ocean.

Marko snorts. “He still lacks manners, but what else to expect of a creature?”

The word creature echoes in Erik’s head in a bad way. He grits his teeth. “So what is this about, King Marko?”

“A simple transaction.” He folds his hands in his lap. “You conquered our land, our city, but you know very well that you won’t kill us. The Witch King is my brother, so we’re too valuable.”

“I’m aware of that.” This is one of the reasons Erik is here in the first place. Shaw will attack his kingdom sooner or later, so they need more resources to prepare themselves, more leverage to buy time.

Marko tilts his head in direction of the glass tube. “He is worth more than anything else in this kingdom, worth more than us. Let us go and he’s yours.” Erik frowns. Sure, a merman is extraordinary, but worth more than family? He glances at the coiled in form lying on the rock. There has to be more to it.

“Why would I need to let you go to take him?”

“That’s rather simple. If you don’t, we will kill him right now.”

He nods in the direction of his son, who has his hands on another lever. “There is a bowl full of concentrated black ink hanging over the tube. We discovered, that he can’t breathe it… Or whatever he does with the water around him.”

The smirk on the king’s lips makes Erik want to punch him in the face. He looks at the merman again. This all could be a bluff. Nobody knows what Shaw is up to. Marko is for sure not about lying to save his own hide. Erik won’t let them go. He can’t risk it. Still, letting the mer die for it feels wrong beyond all reason. He turns his head towards the younger Marko, whose hands tighten around a lever. There has to be a way.

“King Marco, I may –“

His words are ripped off by the sound of splintering wood and iron against iron. With a curse his head whips around to see the peak of the battering ram breaking through the door. It’s too early.

The king is already on his feet, his face distorted with an ugly snarl.

“Fine, your decision.”

Erik doesn’t hesitate a second to jump from his seat and rush towards the king’s son. He’s only one foot away, when he sees him pull the lever. Erik knocks him out only needing a single punch, but he’s too late. He turns around at the sound of splashing.

The top quarter of the tube has turned black, the ink seeping down to the ground fast. The trapped merman looks up to it with terror written all over his face. He slides off the rock and lowers himself to the sandy ground to gain a little more distance between him and the ink. The water has already turned grayish at the bottom, getting darker by the second. The merman squeezes his eyes shut and slings his arms around his torso.

The king slowly walks towards the tube. He tabs with his fingers against the glass. The merman flinches hard and turns his head round. His eyes have already lost their spark or maybe it’s the water. Marko smirks at him. “A real shame. Such a pretty thing.”

Faster than Erik can think he has Marko by the throat and squeezes. The king scratches at his arms and hands, but it’s futile. Erik has to stop himself from just snapping the man’s neck. A dull drumming sounds through the room. Erik throws Marko to the ground, who starts to wheeze pathetically.

The merman is beating with his bare hands against the glass surrounding him with the desperation only the dying possess.

Erik’s men finally break the door down.

There is no time to explain, so Erik drops the king where he is. His mind has barely formed anything even remotely resembling a plan, when he rushes over to them and grabs the massive war hammer hanging from one man’s belt.

By the time he faces the tube again, the ink turned the water completely black. With a curse Erik runs back to the tube and uses his speed to haul the head of the hammer against the glass with every bit of strength he has left.

The water is cold as it breaks free of its confinements. Shards scrap over his exposed skin and rips it open, invisible in the tinted water. Instinctively he steps back and raises his arms to shield his face.

His men rush in as the water rushes out. Erik lowers his arm to find the remains of the tube empty.

Heavy coughing makes him turn around. The mer is on the ground a few feet next to him, rinsed out with the water. He has already propped himself up on his arms and coughs up bouts of black. Cuts of various sizes are all over his skin, his blood mixing red with the ink. One of Erik’s men curses loudly, which makes the merman flinch. He looks up for a second, then tries to crawl away from them. He gasps silently, as the shards on the floor bury themselves in his hands, but he doesn’t stop.

Two soldiers step out of the crowd towards the mer on the floor, breaking Erik’s apathy.

“Stay back. All of you.”

His men look towards him, as if they just remembered, that Erik’s here as well, but they stop in their tracks.

The mer looks over his shoulder at Erik’s voice. As their gazes meet, Erik dares to walk in his direction. The mer doesn’t try to crawl further. Instead he turns on the floor into a half-sitting position with the tip of his tail behind him and grabs a large shard of glass next to him.

He lifts the shard in hand like a dagger, his blood dripping down his arms. His eyes are still widened in panic, but his jaw is set with determination. Erik stops immediately and raises his hands in what he hopes is a placating manner. “I won’t harm you.”

The mer’s hand tightens around the shard in his hand and makes his blood well faster. His gaze flicks over to Erik’s men and the remains of the tube, before returning to Erik. His expression stays hard, his muscles tense. Erik takes a little step towards him. The mer raises the shard higher in warning, so Erik stops again.

“I know you have no reason to trust my word, but I swear on my own blood, that you have nothing to fear from me.”

Again, the merman’s eyes find the tub, and clenches his teeth. Erik follows his gaze and understanding dawns on him. “I won’t lock you away, I promise.”

The mer turns his head pointedly towards Erik’s men, before looking back to him. Erik doesn’t really understand, what he means by that. The mer seems to have no trouble to understand what Erik is saying although no word crosses his lips.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

The mer points towards Erik’s men with his free hand this time, looking equal parts frustrated and exhausted. Erik feels the same way. He lets his hands fall to his sides.

“These men are under my command, this city belongs to me. I am the only one, who can keep you truly safe.”

The mer hesitates for a few moments, then he lets his hand sink to the floor. He lets go of the shard with a silent gasp. Even more blood runs down his hand. The merman’s eyes are weary as he looks up to Erik, then he drops his gaze to the floor, defeated.

Erik forces himself to walk slowly over to him not to scare him. Without hesitation he crouches down next to him. The mer flinches, as Erik takes his injured hand in his. Carefully Erik makes the mer form a fist and guides it up above his chest to lessen the bloodflow. Blue eyes meet his for a second before looking away again. Erik squeezes the mer’s hand gently. “I need someone to look at your cuts.”

The mer blinks again at him, then he nods weakly. Now that the fight has left him, he looks suddenly very delicate, as if a careless touch could shatter him. It stings to see him this way. “Alright. Let’s get you there.”

The mer flinches in surprise as Erik reaches around him and slips his other hand under his tail. Carefully Erik gathers him properly in his arms and stands up. The merman is a little heavier than he looks like, but Erik can manage. He makes sure, that the tip of his tail doesn’t drag over the floor before he starts to carry him out. His men stare at him openly, but part to let him through. Absently he gives the order to secure the Marko’s who are still knocked out.

He has just entered the corridor, when he feels the mer shift in his arms. He glances down to find him look around with wide eyes. His uninjured hand clutches at a leather strap of his armor, probably unconsciously. Erik wonders how long he’s been kept in that room. He will make a point of assigning the Marko’s a cell the size of a broom closet. They’ve earned it. He keeps entertaining the thought until they leave the mansion. The mer in his arms gasps voiceless as they step outside. Erik looks down at him, worried that he’s in greater pain than he’s let on.

The merman doesn’t even notice him as he gazes up to the sky. His eyes mirror the blue over him as he looks up in awe.

Something shifts in Erik’s core, a warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time. He tightens his hold a little and walks on.

**Author's Note:**

> And because Thacmis awesome, I got a picture [picture](http://thacmis.tumblr.com/post/150820377431/xmfc-ficlet-in-the-arms-of-the-ocean) for my fic! (If you read this Thacmis, thanks again!)
> 
> Let me know what you think :)


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